


Extirpate

by ContrivedCircus



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Gon Freecs, Anal Sex, Disturbing Themes, Graphic, M/M, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Psychological
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 17:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13415742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ContrivedCircus/pseuds/ContrivedCircus
Summary: He releases bits of himself to the madness.Saturating his body and mind in a pitch black depravity meant solely for extirpation.It taints his hands, stains his blood, for the purpose of tearing Gon apart; destroying him in full.





	Extirpate

The hotel is rather lavish, and beyond what Gon would normally select for himself and Killua. However, on the nights that Hisoka visits, the hunter goes all out.

It is a small room with one queen sized bed against the middle of one wall. The duvet is puffy and white, soft against his skin, though likely to be disrupted in the midst of their destructive copulation. The walls are a soft brown, the carpet, a patterned ruby. Lining the ceiling are soft studio lights, their focus perfectly illuminating the room, giving Gon an arousing view of Hisoka’s features, of the thick muscles wrapped tightly around his body.

A quiet moan draws from between Gon’s lips, one hand coming to run through Hisoka’s red locks as the jester’s tongue continues to explore his cock. Two of Hisoka’s fingers thrust slowly into the boy’s lubed entrance, accustomed to the sensation of the Gon tightening around him. It is the same as it has been for months, or perhaps a year at this point. From the initial, liquor laced kiss, to the first howl of pleasure Gon had given up. There are only two things _missing_ now; the virginal blush of embarrassment, and the fire which used to always alight those large, brown eyes.  
Gon is sensitive to Hisoka’s touch, his body twitching beneath the slide of Hisoka’s hand over his tanned stomach. However, he is excited, and less afraid to show it now that his embarrassment has finally left him. Although the jester never tires of the pleasure provided by Gon’s body, his thoughts have begun to question the exact _value_ remaining.  
To cast aside a broken toy, or to continue milking it for its remaining value. Without his Nen, Gon has lost most of his draw, he is no longer worthwhile, no longer of any real _use_ . Gon is nothing more than a convenient sex toy less prone to _snapping_ beneath the force of his excited thrusts.

Hisoka’s thoughts are not reflected in his gaze, nor in his touch. His fingers continue their curl inside Gon’s body, pressing against his prostate to tease the already edged hunter. The boy’s hands pull at the fluffy duvet, wrinkling it’s surface as his toes curl in pleasure. Gon has grown these past few years, his body more mature than when Hisoka had initially laid eyes on him. However, the magician had wanted Gon to mature in many more ways as well, most of which were no longer possible without the use of his Nen.  
  
Brown eyes come to rest on a small, white corner table to his right. A bouquet of carefully arranged pink flowers sit within a round vase, his eyes focusing hard on it. He is trying to learn to hold out longer, though it feels impossible when faced with Hisoka’s skillful tongue and fingers. The jester has learned his body well enough to know what will set him over the edge, although Gon remains adamant to resist. After spending his childhood training to become a Hunter, a task like this should be nothing.  
  
As though punishing Gon for holding out, Hisoka thrusts his fingers in deeper, rubbing more pointedly against his prostate as his tongue slips around the boy’s throbbing cock. Golden eyes now narrow at Gon, the hand which had been resting on the hunter’s pelvis now presses firmly down before sliding back up Gon’s abdomen towards his chest.  
It is maybe dirty that Hisoka and him are doing such a thing mere hours before Killua will arrive. However, Gon has already spoken with the hotel staff about having the bedding replaced before then, otherwise, they would surely have a fight if the Zoldyck found about what Hisoka and him had been doing.

Gon’s hands come to rest atop Hisoka’s hand which is still pressed to his chest, letting out another moan as the jester’s tongue begins focus purely on the head of his engorged dick. He is at the mercy of the magician’s tongue, craving more with each thread of his being. Masturbating can never compare to the engulfing flame of Hisoka’s mouth wrapped around his cock, or the electricity of his touch as his hands aggressively explore his body. Hisoka is more of an _experience_ than a partner.

Between them, there is heat, the depths of their concupiscence coming to fruition in the form of static. There is an underlying aggression, an agitation lacing each stroke of Hisoka’s tongue, each thrust of his fingers. It is not quite like all the other times they have done this, Gon is aware of this much. However, the thick haze of his arousal prevents his tongue from acting on his thoughts, instead, he moans again as he cums at last.  
  
The jester slows his previously thrusting fingers, his tongue unmoving as he swallows Gon’s cum without any shame. It used to embarrass the hunter to see Hisoka swallowing something so dirty, although now it only further fans the flame of their impending conflagration.  
  
With the overwhelming pleasure now under control, the teen regains control of his tongue, willing his mouth to form the question he has had sitting since this began.  
“Are you in a bad mood, Hisoka?” Gon’s voice is bit exasperated, the after-effects of his powerful orgasm still sending sparks through his body.  
The magician’s eyes raise to meet Gon’s, there is a wall there, it makes his eyes unreadable to the hunter. Slowly pulling his mouth off of the boy’s cock, Hisoka wipes his lips with the back of one hand, his fingers still sunken deeply within Gon’s tight hole.  
  
“Hmm? That’s a strange question.”  
  
A smile lifts Hisoka’s lips, his fingers beginning to slowly thrust again as he observes the teen’s expression. In the back of his mind, a familiar poison is beginning to form, a poison directed at the boy spread naked before him.  
  
“I don’t think it is. You’ve been quieter than usual.”  
  
The jester’s fingers slip out of the stretched hole, his gaze raking over the view of Gon’s legs bent and spread before him, his hands resting against his scarred chest as his eyes watch Hisoka. There is no cocoon of Nen, there is no fiery passion in his gaze, there is only curiosity and subtle determination. Gon’s breathtaking flame has been smothered.  
  
“You’re just very tempting as always~.” The strain formerly present in Hisoka’s touch is no longer present. As if pointing out his mistake were the key, he runs one hand up Gon’s leg, rounding his knee as he looks over the body presented to him. There are many things on his mind at this moment, one of which being his urge to crush Gon’s knee in his hand.

Removing his hand from the joint, Hisoka shifts onto his knees, crawling on-top of Gon until their faces are level. The familiar, prurient gaze of Gon as he looks up at him causes his cock to throb with impatience. There is one thing the jester wants to do for certain, he will lay claim to this body once more.  
  
Their lips meet in an explosion of hunger and static. Hisoka’s thighs meet the back of Gon’s just before the jester’s hands begin to push Gon’s knees against his chest. The teen should always be exposed, he should always be presented for his primary use. The toy he is now is not the same toy he was before. Gon is special.

Gon is his.  
  
As their tongues intertwine, Hisoka begins to grind his swollen cock against the hunter’s ass, prolonging their flame just a bit longer. The poison of his thoughts cannot wait, no, he has made up his mind.  
  
Gon’s Nen-less body, as fragile as glass, will be crushed.  
  
The teen feels drunk on pleasure, warmth spreading throughout his core as he feels the shaft of Hisoka’s thick cock rubbing against his entrance. If he were so inclined, he might beg the magician to put it in, to provide him the release his body has been craving in their weeks of separation. If Gon sat down and gave it more thought, he might come to the conclusion that they are more than sex partners, he might come to the conclusion that he bares unrequited feelings of attachment to the jester. It’s not acceptable, nor is it something Hisoka would ever return to him. Gon keeps a tight leash on his feelings, after parting ways with Killua, he found himself unable to bear the pain of attachment. Hisoka will never leave him because he will never be his.  
  
Except for in these moments.  
  
Killua and Gon had only been children, the idea of having sex had not been on their minds, especially not with each other. Though, now that he’s older, Gon realized he would have enjoyed warm nights spent tossing in the sheets like this with Killua. Maybe Killua would have stayed if Gon had shown him more comfort, more closeness.  
  
“Gon~.” Hisoka’s voice speaks low in his ear, his lips now trailing down his neck, there is a passionate desire, a titillation gnawing at his every move. Hisoka is suddenly excited, as though finally feasting after a day of fasting.  
One of the magician’s hands travels up Gon’s body, his fingertips meeting the bumps of old scars as he feels over the warm skin, beneath him, the teen shivers.  
  
“Hisoka, put it in…”  
Gon’s voice is broken up by a breathy moan, his eyes slightly glazed as his cock stands at attention once more. Reaching up, his hands come to wind around Hisoka’s back, nails dragging softly over his skin. The teen is the epitome of Hisoka’s desires. That is why.

That is why.

That is why.

That is why.

That is why.  
That is why.  
That is why.  
That is why.  
That is why.  
That is why.  
That is why.  
_That is_ _why………………………………………………………………_  
  
                                                                                                                           _‘I can’t wait.♤’_  
  
The flame grows hotter, catching the end of Hisoka’s thoughts, burning in his gaze and beneath his hand. Inside his chest, his heart pounds with excitement, he is vivified by the meal and by his plans. The past five years have all led up to this, and though it is not as he would have liked it, he will enjoy himself, he will explore the darkest depths of his broken toy as he crushes him.  
Hisoka brings one hand to his own cock, gripping himself firmly around the base as he guides the weeping head of his dick to Gon’s ass. The hunter is already prepped, lube shines against the studio lights surrounding them. This exposure of Gon’s knee’s against his chest, his face flushed with concupiscence, it does not force Hisoka’s desire in the same way as before.

This is different.

Holding himself tightly, he begins to push himself through the tight ring of muscles, golden eyes focused on the way Gon’s expression changes from anticipation, to drunken desperation. His eyebrows knit, lips parting as the blush deepens. The deeper Hisoka’s cock gets, the more Gon’s expression changes.  
  
The magician rests one hand on Gon’s knee, as if holding it against his chest as his other hand reaches for his cell phone resting on the bed nearby. Since they initially began this, Hisoka has always taken photos, his tokens for personal use, amusement.  
  
Today is no different in that aspect.  
  
Gon no longer shys away from the camera lense, his trust in Hisoka having escalated over the months. The hunter holds still as Hisoka’s camera shutter sounds, the lense focused on Gon’s face, on his own cock half-buried inside Gon’s stretched hole, and on those eyes vacant of the one thing which had always captured the magician’s focus.  
  
A moan fills the room, Gon spreads his legs wider as Hisoka’s cock sinks even deeper, he knows the pleasure which will be awarded to him, he is no better than Hisoka.  
  
“I always forget how big you are.” The boy complains as Hisoka thumbs across his phone screen. Pictures will not be enough for this, he will go one-step further to ensure he doesn’t regret it. Hisoka begins to record, laying his phone down on the duvet beside Gon as the video continues to roll. It would be better if he could focus it on Gon, however, he will need both hands to sink fully into total satisfaction.  
  
There is a heaviness in his gaze, the excitement having swelled within his chest now threatening to burst free. As sharp, golden eyes relocate to Gon’s, he can immediately see the dribble of fear in that gaze. The mountain boy has always been sharp, his instincts are impressive, and therefore, keenly aware of the predatory gaze within the jester’s eyes.  
  
As though fighting that feeling, Gon presses his lips together for a moment, his eyes softening again as he reaches up to rest his hands on Hisoka’s hips. The tanned skin contrasts Hisoka’s pale skin, his hands are warm and seeking a return of trust.  
  
“Do you feel good?” Hisoka asks, rolling his hips forward until his cock finally sinks fully into that tight hole. He is playing with his food now, Gon is no longer a person, although he has always been mere prey.  
  
“You always feel good. Nn…”  
  
Gon’s hands are removed from Hisoka’s hips, instead, he grips the pillow behind his head, his previously alarmed gaze filling once more with the haze of arousal, the submission to carnal desire.  
Around them, the room has become a prison, or for Gon, a coffin. To dance with the devil, Gon must’ve known all along.  
The magician’s eyes are slits, his murderous gaze focused on the boy before him. Drawing his hips back, Hisoka gives a rough thrust, unable to restrain his excitement with the usual slowness he allows as Gon adjusts. In response, the boy moans, his grip on the pillow tightening as his cock weeps pre-cum onto his pelvis.  
  
There are seconds between his next thrust, just as rough as the previous, Hisoka begins a quick, rough pace inside of Gon. Nothing could ever be more arousing than this, that is why he feels brief anger at his inability to record Gon’s expressions. The trusting boy, glued back together after being shattered to pieces, will never be fixed after this.  
  
The poison is overwhelming his mind. It is a curtain, a fog, he is covered, stained, he is ruined within this moment, he is ruining Gon. Everything about this moment is heavy, as though time is both moving slower than usual, yet also far quicker. A kill has never felt this exhilarating, for Hisoka, usually they are mundane and simply another part of his day.  
Yet this, this is divine. This gift had been handed to him five years ago, presented as a gift, wrapped in promise and power.  
Something for Hisoka alone to break.  
  
His most anticipated deconstruction.  
  
One of Hisoka’s hands darts out, wrapping around the boy’s throat. His grip is tight, the confusion lacing Gon’s gaze swiftly overrun by concern. He is not a stranger to what is happening, he has faced death and walked away, he must know now, if he didn’t before, that this is his grave.  
  
The grim reaper has come.  
  
The magician’s thrusts do not cease or slow as his grip tightens. Rather, Hisoka lowers his face mere inches from Gon’s, his eyes closely observing the subtle changes in the teen’s eyes. Beneath his fingers he can hear the crunch of Gon’s windpipe breaking. The skin is thin, and warm, it gives beneath his power.  
  
Gon’s body is tense now, his hands pulling at Hisoka, his fists poudning against him. The hunter is strong, but he is not as strong as Hisoka, his wrath is the seasoning to the meal. His rage, his fight for life, is what makes this march for death that much more worthwhile.  
  
The room suddenly smells acrid, it is as if the lights have dimmed and darkness has surrounded them. He has all the time in the world to pull Gon apart, to explore his insides, to find out where the fire of determination has gone. Their deconstruction has begun, their conflagoration, Gon’s undoing.  
  
“Yes… Yes… that demand to survive, the pain, the desperation…” Hisoka begins to release parts of himself to madness, the hammering of his heart resounding in his ears as his fingers curl, nails digging into Gon’s neck before he tears ribbons into his skin. A crimson curtain pools around Gon’s neck, wetting the white duvet, staining it with his colors. The deep chunks torn out of Gon’s neck light sparks within the jester’s eyes, his cock throbbing as he gives an abrupt thrust deeper into the hunter. It is beautiful, dulled only by the weak fight presented to him.  
  
Gon has merely lost his purpose, as a previously highly anticipated opponent, to a mere sex toy convenient for his rough streak, Gon has fallen even further to trash no longer holding any potential for absolute excitement. He owns Gon’s body, his voice, his mind, there is nothing more for him to obtain.

Gon’s eyebrows are knitted in a combination of pain and fear. He briefly recalls his Nen, urging it to return to him only to be disappointed once more. However, he didn’t stand a chance against Hisoka even when he could use his Nen. The power gap between the two is insurmountable, it is a challenge far too deep within the realm of the impossible for Gon to even hope to triumph. At the present, pain has engulfed his body, though it is not the worst he has ever felt, nor is it crippling.  
  
What is crippling, is the thick cock still pounding against his insides, Hisoka’s face so close to his as bloodlust drips from his every pore. To be a victim of Hisoka’s, to be selected for death by him, to be tightly trapped within his claws as he observes the very moment of your death…  
  
There is something overwhelming about this, something personal yet _inhuman_ about it that angers Gon.  
  
Still, he continues to find something inside him wishing for all of this to be a nightmare. Although he thought himself satisfied with the unattached relationship he shares with Hisoka, perhaps that is not the case. If it were, then why exactly.... Does he feel betrayed?  
  
Gon gasps, his voice sounds choked as Hisoka’s eyes wander down the length of his face. He is still thrusting himself into the injured body, the hunter’s ass tight around his cock as he fantasizes about the sort of face Gon will make as he dies. What is the best way to kill him? Should he cum first or perhaps after? Hisoka has not yet decided. He is aware that Killua is expected to arrive, perhaps then he should make a display out of Gon? A surprise?

 _A gift._  
  
A bubble of malice pops in Hisoka’s mind, his eyes narrowing at Gon’s. Why is this boy so obnoxious to kill? There had to be a perfect way to do this, or the magician would not be satisfied. Yes, Gon is still special, a broken toy or not, this is a conflagration, not a bonfire.  
  
Hisoka’s face draws nearer still to Gon’s, their lips meeting despite the way the hunter thrashes the resists. He is all but screaming, gasps and choked grunts being all the magician can make out as he firmly grips Gon’s jaw, snapping the delicate bone beneath his fingers as he presses his lips to Gon’s once more. Beneath him, Gon’s body shakes in what could be shock, fear, or pain. He is still struggling, his fists pounding hard against Hisoka’s back, his hands occasionally pushing at the jester’s shoulders.  
  
Gon is weak now.  
                                                                                                   And weakness…  
                      Just

                                                                                                                                    

                                                                                                                                            Won’t

                                                                   Do.

The bone of Gon’s jaw crunches as Hisoka’s grip tightens on it again. He forces his tongue into Gon’s mouth, tasting the heat of his tongue whether Gon wants that or not. Thrusting his cock deeper into the boy’s ass, he moans into his mouth. Titillation overtakes him, regaining his focus before his teeth sink down into Gon’s bottom lip. The metallic taste of blood taints his tongue, dripping down both of their chins before the jester jerks his head back. Like an animal rapidly destroying it’s fresh kill, he tears part of Gon’s bottom lip away, the loudest scream Gon can muster agonizing his destroyed throat as blood drains down Hisoka’s chin and chest. Between his teeth he holds the chunk of Gon’s lip, a smile taunting his lips before he tilts his head back, swallowing the chunk he’d stolen from Gon’s body.  
  
_‘Help me…’_

_‘Killua… please….’_

_‘I’m sorry….’_

_‘Help me!’_  
  
He is screaming inside, pain ravages his body, it is all that is left. Hisoka has allowed for nothing more than the sharp pain that fills him. It is hopeless. It feels hopeless.  
                                       Dark.  
                                             Rotten.  
                                                     **Heavy.**

Gon pleads to the god of the island back home, he thinks of Aunt Mito, Killua, Palm, Leorio, Kurapika, everyone who has helped him to get to where he is today. He’ll never see them again? He’s going to die here?  
  
This is it?

_‘Help me... please…’_

The formerly white duvet is awash with a deep shade of red. The blood is darker around the edges, soaking into the covers and staining Gon’s skin. His chin, neck, and jaw are smothered in crimson, the blood still bubbling and pooling from the chunks town out of his neck as the wideness of his eyes calls to Hisoka.  
  
_‘More… I’m not done.’_  
Hisoka’s thoughts are like a broken piano, strings snapping as the wrong tune plays. He is inundated with his madness, he is sinking into it as though it is coming home. There is nothing more comfortable than finally taking a life that was promised to him.

Focusing on his thrusting for a moment, lascivious moans fill the room, acting as a disturbing couple to the depravity covering his face. The broken, blood soaked boy before him has not even noticed the disturbing moans of Hisoka’s pleasure. His focus bent on survival, on escaping the torment being forced upon him at the hands of this unscrewed magician. Killua may arrive early, he may come early and save him, that could happen.

Unless Killua has already arrived…

And has decided not to save him…

He could still be angry… about the things Gon said to him back at NGL…  
  
_‘Please…’_

Hisoka brings one hand down to Gon’s chest, his palm feeling over the warmed skin. This wretchedness inside of him will drown him, but it is a welcomed release. Who is more deserving of his careful touch? Hisoka who usually cuts his enemies down without a thought, is giving Gon such careful attention.

                                    It is a shroud, a death bringer, this boy is painted the darkest shade of despair.

Gon cannot scream with his windpipe crushed, however, his eyes widen with an unbelievable amount of terror and pain as Hisoka’s hand suddenly thrusts itself through his sternum, forcing its way down to his lungs as his body twists and writhes in anguish. He is here, he is not here, he is himself, he is nothing. Hisoka is shredding him, deconstructing him, he is removing all the parts of Gon that are not Gon, he is searching for that flame, he is carefully destroying him for the sheer pleasure of annihilating what is his.  
  
“Nobody else is allowed to touch you. I told you I would protect you, didn’t I?”  
  
Hisoka’s voice cannot reach Gon’s ears, there is a dull roar of panic alighting his veins in his despair. He wants to pass out, to no longer feel this, but he _can’t._  
He can feel the jester’s fingers sliding over his lungs, the unimaginable pain of his chest being torn as a careless hand intrudes on his organs.  
  
His mouth opens wide, a voiceless scream as Hisoka’s nails drag down his lungs, puncturing them and allowing the blood to pool inside. There is no word for this, for what is happening to him.  
He is destroyed, that is not enough.  
  
Gon’s body hugs up to the middle of Hisoka’s arm, the slimy sensation of blood and meat against his skin only furthering his arousal. The fight seems to have dissolved within the boy, or perhaps the pain is too great. His arms lay at his sides, serving as a brace when he must writhe or try to scream. Crushing his windpipe first truly was the best decision, this is so much more fun.  
  
The sounds of choking begin to increase as Hisoka’s fingers fiddle with the torn flap of his lungs, it sounds as though Gon is drowning, his hands now clutching at the bloodied wrap of his shredded neck.The view is impeccable, truly the most delightful thing he had seen all day. Picking up his phone again, Hisoka begins to record the view of Gon drowning on his own blood, thrusting hard into his tight hole as his one hand remains buried within the hunter’s chest.  
  
Time is running out for Gon, it is due to this that Hisoka begins to slide his hand out, just enough to carefully grip and then snap three of Gon’s ribs. The response is vivifying, Gon’s body performing another wild convulsion of pain, tears streaming down his face as his fingers slip on the bloodied mess of his neck. It is maybe too much pain for him, but it thrills Hisoka to know he is the first person to provide the boy with such a feeling.  
Besides, he cannot allow the boy to die by drowning, it isn’t suitable for someone with his former potential. Although he will die weak, he spent a good few years running with the best of them. He will die the death Hisoka feels he is deserving of.  
  
The magician’s bloodied hand raises up, three ribs gripped tightly in his palm. Turning his palm, he shows Gon the bones he pulled from his body, blood continuing to pool in the wordless silence shared between them. The boy’s eyes are pleading, but Hisoka is unresponsive to his will to live. The flame in his eyes had been extinguished with the loss of his Nen, the loss of his Nen made him an unsuitable opponent. There is no reason to spare him any longer.  
As Gon continues to choke and claw, as blood continues to fill his lungs and his body continues to convulse and writhe in terror and pain, Hisoka raises the broken ribs up over Gon’s head.  
Within his gaze, Hisoka can see it. Perhaps it is relief, the realization that his pain will end and the suffering will cease. If it weren’t for the risk of Gon drowning, Hisoka would not salvage him from his misery, he would drag him deeper into despair instead.  
  
Hisoka’s hand tightly clutches the ribs before he makes a downward stabbing motion, forcing the fractured bones through Gon’s right eye and deep into the socket. Blood blossoms like a rose, overflowing from the crushed eye and draining down Gon’s face. The teen appears to scream, his body violently, exquisitely, spasming before going limp. The stillness is captured not only by the lack of his voiceless screams or thrashes of pain, but in the way his chest ceases to rise and fall, in the way the blood refuses to spray from his sliced arteries. The sight earns a full salacious moan from Hisoka, his hips pressing tightly against the teen’s ass as he cums deep inside of him. Surely, this is the height of arousal, he is cumming harder than he has ever before.  
  
As he moans, lust-filled, golden eyes settle upon the boy's frozen face. The desire to pluck Gon's only good eye reigns heavy on his mind. That last, large brown eye, still wide with terror, swollen from his tears... As he fills the limp body with his cum, he vividly fantasizes about digging his finger into that glazed over, untouched eye. Hisoka fantasizes about extracting the little hunter's eye and playing with the empty hole left behind. Another voice of madness suggests he even fuck the vacant socket just to see if he can rattle the boy's brain.  
While the jester rides out the after-effects of his orgasm, he raises his bloodied palm once more, pushing the ribs sticking up out of Gon's eye, deeper into the eye-socket. Though the boy no longer moves, he continues to feel the insatiable urge to further destroy him. To further taint him, _ruin him._ But the boy is no longer breathing. His heart no longer beats hard against his ribs, his pupils no longer respond to the studio lights above. Hisoka decides he will allow Gon to keep at least one of his eyes, the images of the broken boy he has recorded on his phone will be more than enough fun.

Hisoka stops the video on his phone only once he feels calm enough to do so. After ensuring it has saved, he slowly withdraws his cock from the motionless body. Around Gon, there is a wide, wet puddle of red, more blood than the boy probably knew to be inside of his body. Truly, he is still beautiful, even now.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> **The amazing art is by Ringo-Chuu @Ringo-chuu.tumblr.com **
> 
> //I wrote a second ending to this story due to the many messages I received about how upset and disturbed people felt. It's titled 'Rebuild', feel free to go check that out afterwards to wash away the bad feelings!//
> 
> Leave me a comment with the first thing you thought after reading this.  
> /Feel free to yell at me at ContrivedCircus.Tumblr.com/
> 
>  
> 
> *Lastly... Have you ever heard 'The Virus of Life' by Slipknot?

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Rebuild](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13452750) by [ContrivedCircus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ContrivedCircus/pseuds/ContrivedCircus)




End file.
